Footprints In The Sand - Michelle Horst Page 0,57

against the System of Principles, they get judged by the Emissaries, and if found blameworthy of an act against any of the Seven Virtues they are cast out to become a Dissolute. The Emissaries are clever, they never use words like hate, love, religion, nor faith and hope. I’ve read about those words and I think words like ‘hope’ and ‘faith’ might wake the people up, make them less zombie-like.

Nobody has been cast out since Mom. She was found blameworthy of selfishness. It was an act against Humility.

Selflessness, ‘it’s not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less’. Those were the words they judged her with. Words once spoken by a man named C. S. Lewis. He lived hundreds of years ago, yet his words condemned my mother.

She was chosen to become a courageous Crusader, but didn’t want to leave us. She got cast out anyway - with no hope of ever returning. Hope, I have hope that things might change. I don’t speak to anyone of it. I have hope, that one day we might make our own choices of what to wear and what colors the clothes could be – just simple things.

I don’t always understand what the Emissaries mean to achieve by sending out Crusaders. If people like Mom can’t be saved, can’t be forgiven, then why should we go out to see if there are others? Why give others a chance if Mom can’t have one? I know I shouldn’t question the Virtuous way - this enhanced and purified society – but I do, a little more every day. What does it really stand for?

~*~

I’m afraid I’m not Virtuous enough, and as I stand here watching the bus stop way down the street, my heart leaps to my throat. I fear they’ll see it on my face. Part of me wants to walk out into the street and offer myself up as a Crusader, so I can have a chance to go look for Mom.

No one has ever done something like that; offered themselves up to become a Crusader. But, that part of me that wants to walk into the street has this hope that there is more to life. My life is as colorless as the world around me, my skin a faded yellow just like the walls of our houses, and the blood pulsing listlessly through my veins, a dull blue, like the tiles on our roofs. My life is droning by, day by day, and one day I’ll blink and I’ll be old. There has to be more to my life – a purpose.

Then there’s another part of me, the part that fears I’ll never have enough courage to do such a thing. That part of me wants to stay with Dad, here where it is safe. I have a routine, and even though it’s a boring one, it is my life.

When I start to grow frustrated with my life, I tell myself it’s only temporary. My studies will come to an end and maybe I can go work in the genetics department with dad. I can help grow the vegetables we eat. I can be an asset to my Ecocity, and maybe then, I’ll feel more like a Virtuous.

I’ll get married soon. I’ll experience my first hug, my first kiss. I’ll experience what it feels like to care for another person – a man. It’s a frightening thought. Will I be a good wife? What will be expected of me? The matrimonial course is scheduled for a week before the actual marriage takes place. I have no idea what a marriage entails. I hardly had any example from my parents, with them being at work all the time. I saw them kiss once and that was on the day Mom was taken from us.

Maybe I should go talk to Mrs. Noah about marriage? She seems to know an awful lot about everything. She is after all the oldest.

For now all my worries have to wait. I hold on to Dad’s hand with both of mine as the bus comes closer. It feels like it’s bringing a tidal wave of tension along with it, and it’s going to wipe me right off my feet.

It slows down two houses from ours, slowing my heartbeat along with it. I can hear every beat thumping in my ears. When it stops in front of our house, a cold sweat breaks out over my body, even though it’s not hot enough outside. It never gets that